I am gradually becoming educated and consequently cynical. The kind of girl men like is one who listens and laughs at his dirty jokes. He wants her to be able to chatter away at nothing or encourage him to gobble on about himself.
Isn't there a sweet, clean, decent society anywhere in the world where people are not bound by a million conventions? My life as lived is not an example of my real belief. The sexual act between two people who really love each other seems beautiful to me whether they are conventionally married or not. Narrow conventions and filthy minds spoil it all.
I am gradually becoming educated and consequently cynical. The kind of girl men like is one who listens and laughs at his dirty jokes. He wants her to be able to chatter away at nothing or encourage him to gobble on about himself.
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I'm so completely puzzled!
It was good to have Bailey here this evening but I fear John was bored with our reminiscences. On the other hand he may have enjoyed it but when he left he barely touched my lips. What shall I do? Is he mentally ill - in which case all I have to do is be patient? Or is he grown tired of me - in which case I should give him up? I know my own mind! I know that I want him. What I do not know is how he actually feels toward me. I didn't get my driving lesson because of the rain.
When I leave Elizabeth after an evening's conversation I'm usually in a rather serious though optimistic state of mind. She has a most beautiful faith. It isn't simply faith of my mother - but well thought-out. She answered so easily the question that always puzzles me - "What is it all about?" "What are we here for?" "When it is all sifted down," says Elizabeth, "there is just one answer - it is for the glorification of God." I read something today that John wrote several years ago which was an example of his beautiful faith - which he has lost! I'm lonely. I went to the movies with John Saturday evening and of course couldn't talk to him. Yesterday afternoon we read the Sunday papers and he did not come around last evening. Sunday evening and my fiance not with me.
If only we had a well-kept home. I dare not even ask Miss Mars here and she would make a fine friend. There are so many friends I might cultivate if I could bring them here. Friday - if I care to, I can go to a dance with a wealthy boy from New York. Again - lack of money! It will mean a new dress. I wonder how John would really feel about it! I am afraid - afraid of life, of people. When I am with people I feel a tension trying to keep up, fighting against something within myself and I don't know what it is. I think it is not noticeable to others. I hope not. It makes me say things without thinking or keeps me from saying things I should because I fear I may be wrong. I can't help it.
When Alice doesn't want me to go to the dance because she wants to have a good time, when John comes and is as cold as ice to me and won't even talk to me - it cuts very deeply and makes me crawl further within myself. If only there were someone somewhere who could tell me that I'm needed and not just a useless fixture. Oh dear, such a life! Now I'm terribly sorry for the way I've treated him. He was quiet again this evening but very gentle and passive as usual.
He lets me maul him like a good tempered puppy. Never complains and is as patient as Job with my changes of mind. I'm not at all sure that I should marry him but I know that I want to. "She ought to know her own mind." If, just once, I could hear him say, "I love you, I want you, I need you," I think I should be happy forever and ever and ever. |
ContextThis is the journal of Virginia Lee Scott, my grandmother, written when she was seventeen and first dating my grandfather, John Arnold Wilson. It's a dairy published by Media Drug Stores and includes space for two entries per day, with facts about the era printed at the bottom, which I have included in italics. Following, 1928, is the journal of John Arnold Wilson, my grandfather, at age nineteen and in love with my grandmother, followed by my grandmother's journal in 1931. Archives
April 2018
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